


lay all your love on me

by submissivekillers (prettylittlehead)



Category: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Movies)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff, Hand & Finger Kink, Other, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Size Difference, Smut, gender neutral reader, hoyt shows up for 5 seconds at the end lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:21:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29555559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettylittlehead/pseuds/submissivekillers
Summary: you peg thomas hewitt. that's it (oh also he eats you out, but the pegging is really the star of the show here)
Relationships: Leatherface | Thomas Brown Hewitt & You, Leatherface | Thomas Brown Hewitt/You





	lay all your love on me

**Author's Note:**

> _request: Can I get pegging with Thomas Hewitt? Thank you! (anonymous)_
> 
> man i'm really starting to hate how ao3's tag system just has like No way to easily tag nonbinary characters in relationships?? anyway. exactly what it says on the tin, with a lot of cuddles and general lovin' for tommy to go around. i have mixed feelings about the tcm remakes but i do love bryniarski's leatherface, despite his weird beef with gunnar hansen.
> 
> as always, enjoy and come check me out @submissivekillers on tumblr if you want to see more of my work!

Thomas has massive hands. All of him is massive - he’s towering and barrel-chested, with muscles hard and defined from labor and a plush softness to his belly and thighs from Luda Mae’s cooking - but it’s his hands that always grab your attention: the broad palms, the long, thick fingers, the pronounced calluses on his knuckles. His hands swallow yours when you interlace your fingers with his, effortlessly span the breadth of your hips. They wield chainsaws and hammer with a butcher’s efficiency, but they touch you like something holy; an icon to be protected, cherished.

Those hands tremble now: a shiver that wracks his hulking frame as he sprawls beneath you, maskless and panting. One hand grips your hip like a lifeline, bitten-down nails plucking at the straps crisscrossing your skin; the other is flung haphazardly over his face, eyes shut tight. He’s flushed pink all the way down to his broad shoulders, chest still heaving as he winds down. 

You hadn’t expected him to react _quite_ so well to you fingering him open but Tommy took you so eagerly, meeting the thrusts of your fingers with rocking hips and greedy pants. He had practically howled when you found his prostate, massaging it carefully with three fingers until he sobbed and arched off the bed without you laying a finger on his cock, thick cum splattering over his stomach and chest. It makes you feel a little more confident about using the silicone dick harnessed to your hips, currently resting heavily in the crook of his inner thigh. 

You finish wiping your hand on a towel and then clasp the wrist thrown over his face, gently pulling his hand away. You would never be able to move Thomas if he didn’t want to be moved, and you can see the way he flinches and turns to the side, still trying to hide his pockmarked face from your gaze - but he lets you lift his limp hand, the tension in his shoulders easing when you bend to press your lips to the scars on his forearm. You trail kisses down his arm, nipping at his racing pulse, flicking your tongue over the love line on his palm before you press your cheek into his hand, nuzzling like a happy cat. 

Thomas manages to crack open an eye, smiling shyly at you. You beam back, releasing his hand (it lingers on your cheek, fingertips gently pushing sweat-slick hair back from your forehead) and leaning forward to run your fingers through his thick curls. “My handsome boy,” you coo, watching his blush darken to a livid red. “You really wanted this, huh?” 

His gaze flicks down, dark lashes kissing his cheeks, but he nods nonetheless. He curls his palm around the nape of your neck and starts to pull you down, leaning in to kiss you, but cuts himself off a disgruntled noise when he realizes he’s still covered in his own come, face scrunching a little in disgust. You giggle. “How about I clean you up, and then we can use this?” 

You rock your hips a little, strap sliding against his skin, and Tommy makes a noise of agreement so _eager_ that even he seems a little surprised by it.

You clean him leisurely, cleaning the spend from his stomach with your softest towel. Thomas closes his eyes and luxuriates in your touch, practically purring. When he’s almost clean, you toss it to the foot of the bed, scooping up the last of Tommy’s cum with your fingertips. He gazes at you curiously, blinking at you with a sweet kind of innocence that his massive stature belies - and then he goes bright red again as you suck the taste of him off your fingers. You hum with satisfaction at the taste just to rub it in, and you’re still giggling at his long-suffering groan when he finally manages to tug you down for that kiss, slipping his tongue into your laughing mouth. 

His hands cradle your head as you press against him, huge enough to comfortably encircle your skull. When you break away to breathe, it’s only for a moment before you’re kissing him again, pecking his lips before moving to scatter kisses over his scarred cheeks, along his strong jaw, down his throat. Thomas sighs, a soft, sweet sound, and you can’t help but tilt your hips so that your clit grinds against the harness. 

Thomas whines and bucks against you as your silicone cock ruts against his. He's already half-hard, slowly dripping pre, and you take that as your cue to sit back on your heels, hitching his knees up around your waist. He looks up at you with parted lips and flushed cheeks, dark eyes bright with adoration, and you love him so much it aches.   
“You ready, darling?” 

His hand finds yours, resting on his thigh as you tease your tip against his slick hole, and he clutches you like a lifeline. His voice is a rusty rasp, slurred from disuse as much as from the damage to his throat and mouth, but paired with his nod, you know exactly what he means to say.

“Okay," you breathe. "Just relax for me, Tommy."

Slowly (maybe too slowly, but god knows if Tommy doesn't deserve a little extra tenderness), you cant your hips forward, adjusting your grip on his thighs as you sink into him.   
Tommy groans, the sound rumbling up from deep in his chest, a low thrum that sounds like the earth itself shifting. It dissolves into a stuttering whine when you bottom out inside him. The hand not clutching yours - his knuckles have gone white, and you expect that you won't be able to feel your hand by the time this is over but you can't bring yourself to care - lifts to cover his face. You can still see the blush on his skin, red spreading down his chest and up to the tips of his ears. 

You dip down and press a kiss to the bend of his knee, rock your hips slightly just to test the feeling (and to watch him jerk and squirm.) "I'd like to see your face, honey," you murmur, "But only if you want me too, okay?" 

Thomas hums, rocks down on your strap impatiently, and you set to work, pulling out to the tip and then sheathing back inside him in one hard stroke. He jerks, and you watch his eyes roll. 

You set a quick, steady pace, ignoring the burn in your hips and thighs as you jackhammer into him. Tommy grunts with every slap of your hips against his ass, meeting your thrusts with his own once he gets used to your rhythm. His cock is vivid red, almost purple near the tip, and when you take him in hand and tug him in time with your pumping hips his voice breaks around a moan. When you hike one leg up higher, opening him up deeper and twisting your hips, he arches off the bed completely, hand leaving his face to fist in the sheets next to his head. 

Your breath catches in your throat at his expression: eyes half-lidded, scarred mouth twisted in pleasure, his plush bottom lip still swollen from your kisses. He looks up at you with open ecstasy, self-consciousness forgotten, and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. 

"You're so handsome, Tommy," you sigh - and Thomas shudders, convulses, a long, loud moan echoing through your cramped bedroom as he comes into your palm in thick spurts. 

You fuck him through it, grinding your hips in slow, steady circles against his ass. When the overstimulation starts to edge from pleasure into pain, Thomas makes an attempt at signing at you before realizing he's not _nearly_ coordinated enough to manage it, settling for a squeeze of your hand and a weary shake of his head, dark hair flopping into his eyes. He makes a hoarse, broken sound as you pull out, clenching around your strap like he's trying to keep you inside. 

You rock back on your heels so you can clean your hand on the towel and the shift in position presses the base of the dildo against your neglected clit, a quiet "Fuck!" hissing through your clenched teeth. Thomas comes alert quickly, blinking at you before his gaze flicks down to your lap. You wave dismissively.

"I can take care of—" And you don't get to finish your sentence before Thomas surges up and kisses you, tugging at the bands around your hips with such force you're worried they might snap. 

“You don’t want to take a break?” You half-laugh as he fumbles impatiently with the buckles of your strap, and he shakes his head, makes a frustrated noise. His eyes are hungry, the haze of exhaustion dissipating in the face of his lust. You lift your hips so he can slide the toy down your thighs, shivering as you're exposed to the air. Thomas wastes no time lifting you up and dragging you over his chest with an ease that makes a fresh gush of slick coat your thighs, pulling you down to straddle his face with a moan that vibrates through your whole body. 

“Okay, okay, _oh_ , fuck!” You choke on your tongue as he buries his face in your sex, grasping frantically for the headboard to hold yourself up. Thomas laps at your clit with the flat of his tongue, slow, heavy strokes that have you writhing and gasping for air in an embarrassingly short time. One finger works you open, thick enough on its own that you feel the stretch as it slides in, and massages your G-spot with steady precision. 

Worked up as you are, it's barely a full minute before your orgasm rocks through you, your thighs clamping around Thomas's head as your scream shatters the afternoon quiet. Tommy's grip on your thighs holds you still, tongue and hands working to drag the last few spasms of release out of you until you come back to yourself enough to tug at his hair.   
You collapse bonelessly to the mattress when he releases you, still panting, and grunt at Thomas when he tries to get you to roll over. He flips you over himself after a moment, smiling when you giggle breathlessly. He cleans the slick and spit from your thighs with the same tender touch you'd given him, pressing kisses up your stomach and chest until he finds your mouth. You still taste yourself on his tongue. 

You slip out of the bed as Thomas reclines back, stumbling on shaky legs (Thomas snorts behind you, distinctly smug.) You manage to find your underwear in the scatter of clothes and slide it back on - it's too hot to dress more, especially to cuddle with your space heater of a boyfriend. You gladly curl up in Tommy's open arms, ready to fall easily into a post-coital nap. 

"Are you two fucking DONE?"

Leave it to Hoyt to ruin your plans.


End file.
